Sickness
by LinChungIsHot
Summary: Akaya's sick. But it's not just any passing illness... reader x Akaya Kirihara


LCIH: Taken from my K-I-S-S series on lunaescence (under the author name of **Ruby Spice**). If you see it anywhere else, it's been copied. Please don't copy other people's work. It's ridiculously low.

LCIH: Anyways, enjoy~! And I don't own Prince of Tennis or the reader. Reviews are fantastic~!

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"(Name)…"

His voice sounded hoarse over the phone. It was soft, barely audible, and he was panting heavily, so you couldn't understand him very well. For a second, you thought he was pranking you. He loved to do that, especially when he had nothing to do, and tonight was one of those nights.

"Akaya…" You sighed, annoyed with his interruption. He'd called as you were busy cooking, and the stove was on. You had a pot of water boiling on top and were at the countertop, chopping up some vegetables for a salad. "I'm busy. I don't have time for your games."

"Can you…come over?"

He was struggling to get his words out and they were slurred, as though he was having difficulty speaking. For a second you thought maybe he was drunk, but you remembered that Kirihara didn't drink. His wife wasn't at home, so maybe he was experimenting with wine? "Are you okay?"

"... (Name)…hurry…"

Something in his voice made you freeze. You stood for a moment, holding the phone to your ear. Then you said, "Akaya? Akaya, honey? Hey, are you still there? Talk to me."

The silence Kirihara's other end was disturbing.

"All right, I'm coming right now. Just hold on." You quickly hung up and then went over to the stove and put out the flames. Quickly, you grabbed your keys from the key holder on the wall and on your way to your car, pulled your white overcoat with you, shrugging it on.

On the roads you drove as fast as you could without breaking the speed limit. Every red light that stopped you made you frustrated, hands clutching the wheel until your knuckles turned white. Kirihara liked to phone-prank you, but he'd never sounded like this. You could only think of one other time he'd talked with harsh breaths…

And you didn't like to think what he was doing, alone, waiting for you.

You reached his house and quickly pulled into his driveway. You could see that most of the lights were on inside. Ripping the keys out of ignition, you jumped out from the car and ran up the walkway to his front door. The spare key was hidden in the plant next to it, and you quickly dug around for it, sighing in relief when your fingers closed around the cool metal. A hasty insert of the key, a twist of the knob, and the door opened.

You stepped inside, closing the door behind you. "Akaya? I'm here. Where are you?" You looked around, slipping the key into your pocket.

"In the living room," he replied. You could see a dim light at the end of the corridor.

You took off your shoes and left them by the door, along with your coat. Then you walked down the familiar corridor to the living room. "Hey," you said, as you saw him sitting on the couch, staring blankly at you. The phone lay a few inches away from him. "You had me so worried. I thought maybe you were having a stroke or something…"

Kirihara raised his head to meet you and you stopped short as you caught sight of his eyes.

Blood-red irises.

"(Name)," he said, tilting his head slightly, watching you coldly. "I'm so glad you could make it."

His voice had lost all of its sluggishness and difficulty speaking, his words suddenly crystal clear in the midst of everything. You pushed away the fear that came up your throat and said, "Is this some kind of joke, Akaya? I was cooking when you called me. You shouldn't have bothered me." You turned to leave. "This is ridiculous. I'm not going to stay here and fulfill your carnal desires. Good night, Akaya."

For with those eyes came bloodlust…

Suddenly he was standing right behind you. You could feel his presence. His breath tickled the nape of your neck, exposed as your hair was pinned up in a tight bun. "Leaving so soon?" With a quick, sharp twist he had undone your bun and your hair cascaded down your shoulders, where he ran his fingers through your silky strands, reveling in the smoothness. "Mmm. I love your hair, (Name). It's so sexy."

"And you aren't." You resisted the urge to lean against him. "I'm done, Akaya. And here I thought you were dying! But all you want is someone to play with, since your wife's out of town, isn't that right?"

"Don't be angry, babe." An arm snaked around your waist and pulled you flush against him.

You didn't want this. He was acting strange, and it was scaring you. The devil-mode Kirihara was more frightening than anything. You strained against his arm, trying to pull away. "Let go of me—"

With a forceful grasp, Kirihara grabbed your chin and turned your head toward him. He took your lips in a hungry kiss, silencing your protests. His tongue massaged the familiar walls of your mouth, exploring the moist cavern it had explored many times before. He kept the fingers of his one hand on your chin, not allowing you to turn away. With his other hand, he slipped it into your blouse and slid it upward, over your stomach, into your bra. He tweaked your breasts with rough fingers, causing you to cry out against his mouth.

He wasn't done, though. His hand still attended your breasts, rolling his calloused thumbs over the tips, while he brushed aside your hair and lowered his mouth to your skin, sucking that place where your neck and shoulder met. He knew it to be your sweet spot and you moaned, falling against him, knees giving out under the strain of being pleasured. He hadn't touched you like this in so long. It felt so good…

"You like that, don't you?" he said, lips brushing against your skin. You shivered as goose bumps rose onto your flesh, dotting your bare arms. Kirihara chuckled and continued working your sweet spot, nibbling it to earn a breath moan from you. The hand on your breasts suddenly danced downward, moving gently, almost lovingly against your stomach, until it reached the top of your skirt. Then he slipped his fingers in…

"—_stop_!" You pulled away from him, stumbling forward. You whirled around to face him. "What the hell, Akaya? When did I ever give you permission to touch me like that? What is your problem?!"

"Why are you so angry? You enjoyed it, (Name). Just look at you." His red eyes swept down the length of your body, and you hated yourself for being flushed with pleasure, hot for his touch, your cheeks red, breathing heavy. He was right. You'd enjoyed every moment of it.

Tears sprung to your eyes and you hastily wiped them away, refusing to cry in front of him. "Just stay away from me. You're a real faithful husband, you know that? If your wife knew…"

"She won't know." Kirihara took a step forward and you backed away.

"Please, Akaya. Stay away from me." Your words came out as a whisper, and the tears you tried to hold back fell down your cheek, making a wet trail as they went.

He stood still for a moment, staring at you. But his eyes didn't hold that cold, clear gaze. Instead, they were muddled, and hazy, as though he were seeing you but not really seeing you. Then, a groan escaped his lips as his eyes rolled back into his head and Kirihara toppled forward.

Startled, you reached out and grabbed him before he hit the ground. He fell against you, nearly causing you to fall to the floor, but you managed to regain your balance by putting an arm out and holding onto the armrest of a nearby couch.

"Akaya? Are you trying another trick? Because it's not going to work," you said, looking down at his dark, seaweed-like hair.

But when he didn't respond, or move for that matter, you realized that he had really passed out. From exhaustion or whatnot, you didn't know.

His skin was hot against yours, and you didn't have to be a doctor to know that he was coming down with some sort of sickness. His breathing was deep, but irregular and noisy, as though he were having trouble getting air in and out of his lungs. You held him for a few moments before gently pulling up one of his eyelids to see his eyes.

They were beautiful green again.

A sigh of relief came from your mouth, and you sank down onto the couch, cradling the man in your arms. "Oh, Akaya," you murmured, gently stroking his burning forehead. Under your touch, he shifted, then let out a soft breath and went right back to sleeping. "Why would you do such a thing?"

You couldn't just leave Kirihara here, as he was clearly sick and he might get worse during the night, so you leaned back against the couch, one hand on Kirihara's head, the other covering your eyes. You needed to think. But you also needed some sleep.

Kirihara could explain to his wife why he was sleeping the lap of his old girlfriend in the morning. He would have to take responsibility. You were done caring for him.

But a part of you, that motherly, protective part, still wanted to take care of him. One way or another, Kirihara Akaya would always remain your closest friend and former lover.


End file.
